


Remain Nameless

by badminton_umbrella



Category: Gintama
Genre: Abutozaki, Alcohol, Boys Being Silly, M/M, Vague manga spoilers, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 17:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6574489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badminton_umbrella/pseuds/badminton_umbrella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abuto meets an enigmatic man on Earth and wants to learn more about him. (Yamazaki meets a dangerous criminal and wants to try getting information out of him.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remain Nameless

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from the Florence and the Machine song of the same name.

Your first impression of him is that he’s small.

You meet him in a run-down bar on the edge of Edo, during a much-needed break after everything that happened on Rakuyou. When you enter the bar, your eyes are drawn to him, to his small—to be fair, average for a human—form hunched over a table in the corner. It’s a wonder you notice him at all; at first glance he looks like any other drunk, like he’s been here long enough to sink into the surrounding boozy haze, like he’s barely cognizant of the world beyond his almost-empty glass. But beneath that you can see the tension in his shoulders and the way his eyes flick around the room, the way he occasionally tilts his head towards the groups of men scattered throughout. He’s listening for something, watching.

His eyes slide over you, standing in the doorway, and continue their circuit around the room for a brief second before something like recognition flashes in his eyes and his attention snaps back to you. He suddenly looks ready to bolt, but there’s nowhere for him to go with you blocking the only exit. You can see him forcing down that impulse and trying to look like he hasn’t noticed you, and he actually does a pretty convincing job.

_Interesting._

For a moment, you feel something predatory stir in your gut.

You close your eyes and wait for the feeling to pass. You’re under no one’s orders but your own right now, and all you really want is to have a quiet drink, not to start questioning strangers or start a brawl—or if you’re being honest with yourself, a massacre—in this dingy old bar. 

When you’ve calmed down, you make your way to the counter and order a pint. Out of the corner of your eye you can see that the man has stayed put, despite the opening you left for him. Maybe you misread him earlier—could’ve just been that he thought he left the stove on or something. 

Even if you’re not in the mood to question strangers or start a fight, you feel like you might be in the mood to _talk_ , and you find your legs carrying you towards his table once you’ve got your drink.

He sees you approaching and his eyes widen comically for a second before he can stop himself. You pull up a chair next to him.

He seems trapped somewhere between _Playing It Cool_ and _Wetting His Pants._

You hold his gaze and smile in what you hope is a non-threatening way. “Abuto,” you say. “My name, that is. I don’t bite.”

After a moment, he smiles back at you; it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s a start, you think.  
“Jimmy,” he replies, voice barely audible over the background noise of other people’s conversations. 

You laugh.

“Listen, I understand if you don’t wanna give your real name to some guy you just met in a bar, but next time you might want to try a little harder. Not very convincing, Jimmy-san,” you say.

He seems to shrink back in his seat and readies a retort, but you hold up a hand to stop him.

“S’fine,” you say. “I don’t care who you are or what you’re doing. Just want some company. That okay?”

He looks at you for a moment, considering, then something in him seems to relax. He takes a long pull from the half-empty glass in front of him and sighs heavily, then turns bodily towards you in his chair.

“Okay, Abuto-san,” he says, suddenly smiling. “What are you doing here tonight?”

\--

Your second impression of him is that he’s funny. 

You’ve been at the bar for a while now and you’ve somehow managed to drink enough to feel a little buzzed. Jimmy—you’ve decided to just go with the embarrassing fake name for now, because really, hilarious—seems like he might be a little buzzed now too. And not like before, when he was slouching in the corner and casing the joint, or whatever—you’ve decided not to bother him about it for now, because you don’t want to spook him—but honest-to-god buzzed, well on his way to completely drunk.

You and Jimmy have been swapping stories about your terrible bosses, competing to see who’s got it worse. You’re pretty sure you’ve got him beat, considering the number of times your boss has been directly responsible for you _losing your actual entire arm_ , but you haven’t told him any of those stories yet; you want him to keep talking, to keep joking, so you can watch the way his face shifts with genuine emotion.

He’s hiding something from you, and you aren’t sure yet if you want to know what it is, but for now this is enough: him laughing, sighing in frustration, furrowing his brows deeply in an impersonation of his boss.

This is him. 

For now you’ll accept what he’s willing to show you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I plan to update soon! If you liked it I love getting comments :) Come say hi to me on tumblr [@abutozaki](http://abutozaki.tumblr.com)!


End file.
